Best of Both Minds
by Crystia
Summary: Sharing a mind link with your enemy is never fun. But sharing it with Kaiba? Jounouchi's worst nightmare becomes reality. (KaibaxJounouchi)
1. Jounouchi vs Fate

**Warnings: Jou-language and yaoi-liciousness.**

…**totally a word. Also, insert disclaimer here.**

* * *

Seto Kaiba and Jounouchi Katsuya had just one thing in common.

They hated the supernatural.

At some point, Jounouchi noted that the supernatural must hate him, too, because it followed him everywhere no matter how hard he tried to avoid it_._ His only solace was that his arch nemesis had to suffer right along with him, although they each found their own ways to cope.

In Kaiba's case, he dealt with the shadow magic, ancient Egyptian ghosts, and all-around weirdness by denying their existence. He didn't want to believe in them, so they simply _didn't exist_.

Only Seto Kaiba could get away with defining his own reality, and while he didn't always succeed, he suppressed the magical 'hocus pocus' just enough that he could pretend otherwise. He used logic as his defense, and obstinate wise-ass that he was, he had plenty to protect himself from his constant involvement with Yugi and his supernatural adventures.

Unfortunately, Jounouchi had to admit that he'd never been a genius. He was unsure if he even wanted to be, automatically linking 'genius' to 'bastard' after his experiences with the almighty moneybags himself. Genius, Kaiba. Kaiba, Bastard. Easy.

So instead, he coped by never letting the truth sink in.

Oh, he _accepted_ that an Egyptian ghost haunted his best friend; he even _befriended_ the spirit. But if he ever truly acknowledged, deep-down gut-feeling _believed_ that his best friend was possessed by a dead guy, that souls could be ripped from their bodies, and _holy shit dead didn't always mean dead,_ he subconsciously knew that he'd snap.

And maybe, subconsciously, he knew that Kaiba might deny the truth for the same reason.

And maybe it was those same otherworldly forces he so hated which put them in the same class throughout high school, accompanied by two other students who seemed frequently stalked by the supernatural. Fate liked messing with them, moving around its pawns so they led the most supernatural lives possible. And he had the sneaking suspicion that fate was cackling wickedly all the while.

Then again, Jounouchi didn't have a problem with Yugi, and he'd even gotten used to the 'other' Yugi. Screw the magic and the insane villains after the Millennium Puzzle; Jou could suck it up for his friends.

Even Ryou Bakura wasn't so bad. He loved the occult—and shit, he creeped Jounouchi out, no matter how sweetly the teen smiled—but at least he was nicer than Kaiba, weird fascination with corpses be damned.

But the spirit of the Millennium Ring? A ghost, murderer, thief, and indiscriminate bad guy. If fate was the one who had told Jounouchi that challenging Yami Bakura to a duel was a good idea, _because it had certainly seemed brilliant at the time_, then he might have finally found something he hated even more than Seto Kaiba.

Jounouchi was losing.

Looking up from his cards, he met the spirit's flickering eyes, an eerie pair of red slits glowing in the darkness. And there was darkness _everywhere_. A few insults and a challenge, and Jou wondered if the confrontation had landed him in hell itself.

He'd always thought that if he went to hell, he'd be sent there for a better reason than playing a _card game._ It wasn't even his fault; Bakura had provoked him. It had started as a duel to defend his pride, but now Jounouchi was trapped in some fucking shadow world and he just wanted _out. _

He should have known that recently, a card game almost always meant the same damn thing as a shadow game.

"Scared, mortal?" the demon asked, his lips twisted into a demented smile that Jounouchi thought looked like a disturbing combination of the grinch and the joker. This guy could've stolen the role from either of them, no competition.

"I've got more guts than you ever will," Jounouchi spat, hiding the chill that went down his spine. He'd faced thugs and gangsters, beaten and been beaten, but they'd never seemed so _inhuman,_ regardless of how cruel_._ "I'm not the one who always hides behind Bakura's face so I don't get my ass whipped, coward."

"That's interesting," the spirit sneered, his ghostly face twisting with disgusting hatred. "Especially coming from someone who always hides behind the Pharaoh and his brat."

_Yugi_. The kid was probably worried about him, actually. Jounouchi had never returned from lunch, seeking a moment alone on the roof, and hadn't even told his friends where he'd gone.

Unfortunately, instead of peace, he'd found Bakura.

And then the spirit had called forth his evil shadow powers of doom, and Jounouchi slowly came to terms with the fact that he was royally, evilly screwed.

He wished he'd at least eaten lunch first.

"I'm not the one who's been chasing the Pharaoh around for five thousand years- and _still_ can't beat him," Jounouchi retorted, although he belatedly realized that taunting the phantom maybe wasn't the best idea. Especially not when the demon controlled whether or not he would leave or rot in this realm.

He didn't even have time to feel smug when Bakura didn't offer an immediate comeback, because the spirit threw back his head and let out a terrible, delighted cackle.

Absently, Jounouchi wondered if villains had to fill out job applications. If they did, he decided, this guy fit the description perfectly. Creepy-ass laugh? Check. Glowing red eyes? Check. Aspiration to sadistically torture and unjustly murder the poor, innocent Jounouchi Katsuya? Double check.

He snapped out of his musings when Bakura paused his laughter, and Jounouchi's eyes dilated in fear when the demon showed him the card he'd just drawn.

It was the last letter for Destiny Board.

"You can't win," Jounouchi protested, even as Bakura gloated.

"I'm afraid I already have," the spirit declared, and the shadows seemed to grow darker and press forward in response. Jounouchi dropped his cards, stumbling backwards and tripping over his own feet, but not even caring because all he knew was that he had to _get away_ from the maniac sitting across from him.

He always saved his most suave moves for when he was about to die.

"What to do with you," Bakura mused with mock concern. He leaned forward, tapping his chin thoughtfully with a long, unnaturally pale finger. "What to do."

For a moment the spirit only stared, and then the pain hit. _"Fuck!_"

Jounouchi's head throbbed with images and he could _feel_ that slimy bastard searching his emotions and disjointed memories for something to torture him with. A penalty game, personalized to torment him _specifically_. What a deal.

"Yes, killing you would be much too easy," Bakura was still speaking, his voice pulsing in Jounouchi's ears. "I've never been fond of the Pharaoh's lapdogs. I'd much rather prolong your suffering."

The teen hissed at the comment; he wasn't a dog, dammit. He didn't need Bakura ridiculing him too; Kaiba's insults were bad enough, the stuck-up, spoiled, selfish, bastard of a rich boy-

"Now, what's this?"

Bakura sounded dangerously fascinated, and his victim shuddered. The spirit couldn't distinguish between specific thoughts, but Jounouchi hated Kaiba strongly enough for the demon to pick up.

Jounouchi stared in confusion as a piece of darkness suddenly faded, a round hole of white glowing in front of him. The shadows appeared to squirm away, a picture of the normal, sane world forming in their place. A portal of light found in a pool of black, like a circular television that hovered in the middle of a starless night sky.

Leaning forward, he peered down and saw desks, and then students returning from their lunch break, a snippet of their reality playing in a realm they didn't know existed.

And there was Seto Kaiba.

The man sat stiffly and arrogantly at his desk like he owned the place, and hell, he probably did. If not, then the only reason he didn't was because he saw the destitute public school as beneath him, undeserving of his oh-so-mighty rule.

A cruelly amused laugh interrupted his internal seething.

"Well, isn't that interesting," Bakura murmured, his eyes bright. "Hmm, I'm afraid all good shadow games must come to an end, but don't worry, mortal. I've already decided on your punishment."

"What are you talking about, you freak?" Jounouchi ground out, gnashing his teeth in pain. Bakura ignored him easily.

"I've never done one exactly like it," the spirit said, the golden ring around his neck glowing ominously while Jounouchi looked on in mute horror. "I generally find trapping souls in _inanimate_ objects much more satisfying. But I think in this case, the results should prove to be quite...entertaining."

"What are you-"

"I suppose I'm sorry to be dragging the priest into _your_ punishment," Bakura continued as the pain in Jounouchi's head escalated. "Actually, no, I don't think I am," he chortled, correcting himself. "I never did like that pretentious fool."

Jounouchi gasped, his head throbbing as though it was ripping in two. He hadn't exactly felt _real_ in this realm, but at least he had felt attached to his body, although it was such an obvious thing he hadn't noticed until he was _unattached_. The agony was unbearable; he wanted to thrash, scream—but he couldn't, because he had no solid form.

"Remember this well," Bakura sneered as the shadows surrounded his victim in cyclones of darkness. "Those who disrespect the Thief King will pay. Do my work for me and enjoy your hell on earth, you pathetic cretin."

The portal reappeared, and once again, Jounouchi saw the students in their seats. For a moment, it seemed Kaiba felt something, _sensed_ something and looked up, directly at him.

Meeting Kaiba's eyes, their icy blue was the last color Jounouchi saw before the shadows entirely consumed him.

ooo

* * *

Jounouchi groaned quietly, scrunching up his eyes and squinting through them. The familiar sight of scratched wood entered his blurry, sleep-hazed vision, engraved with messily etched names and depraved pictures. Strangely, though, he didn't recognize any...not that he studied the carvings on a regular basis or anything.

Well, usually. Occasionally his boredom got the best of him. And he was so artistically blessed, it seemed a shame not to leave some of his own work behind to gratify future victims subjected to the horrors of trigonometry.

Cut him some slack, it was _math_ class.

His head ached nastily, and lifting his head from his desk and a hand to his head, he idly wondered if he should credit the pain to the oddly realistic nightmare he'd just suffered, or his droning math teacher.

In the end, he decided to blame the immediate and potentially more sinister enemy trying to lead him to his demise.

Calculus.

Groaning again, he lifted his arms to stretch, listening to the muscles pop. Several students turned to look at him strangely, and the teacher, even more strangely, didn't scold him.

He didn't understand either reaction. He fell asleep easily, and he fell asleep often, but the students normally laughed at him, and he was _always_ told off.

Looking around, disoriented, he also wondered why he was sitting in the back, and not in his usual seat by the window. In fact, come to think of it, he couldn't remember when he had arrived to class at all. The encounter with Bakura must have been a dream (it couldn't _not_ be, he was _alive_), but he had no clue at what point he had fallen asleep.

He shook his head. Yugi must have helped him to class, the good-natured friend that he was, and Jounouchi must never have fully woken up. Sleep-walked. Yeah, that was it. And the teacher had switched the seating chart, and Yugi had led him to his new seat.

The whole thing would've been much more convincing if he could actually _see_ Yugi, and if everyone else wasn't in the same seat as usual. Come to think of it, Honda wasn't there either, or even Bakura.

Maybe he felt just slightly relieved that Bakura had apparently skipped (and it wasn't because he was scared, dammit), but all three of them were missing. Four, he noted, when he saw Anzu's empty seat.

It dawned on him that if they were _all_ missing, something damn important must have come up, since neither Anzu nor Bakura were the type to skip just for kicks.

They'd better not have gone off to save the world without him.

"Hey," he hissed at one of the boys sitting at the table in front of him, since his own table partner was either nonexistent or absent. The teen turned to stare at him with wide eyes, seemingly petrified by merely being addressed.

_Weird._ He hadn't gotten one of those reactions since his days in the gang. He could deal with the problem later; however, he had more pressing issues to address. Besides, a little unwarranted terror never hurt anybody.

"Hey," he started again in a whisper. His voice sounded strange, but he dismissed it quickly in favor of investigating the more pertinent dilemma. "Where's Yugi and-"

"Kaiba-san," the teacher suddenly interrupted, and Jounouchi sat back in his seat, trying to look innocent. The teacher glared _right at him_, though, and he looked subtly to his left and right and over his shoulder, trying to find the rich prick who had been addressed.

But Kaiba was absent too. Yeah, it was definitely one of those moments, one where 'the end of the world was near', and Jounouchi was stuck in math class while his best friend and most hated enemy were off with the rest of the gang fighting an ultimate battle against evil.

It was a matter of course that Jounouchi would rather play card games to save the world than sit through calculus.

"Kaiba-san," the teacher repeated, her voice gaining an edge. Ohh, Kaiba was in for it, and normally Jounouchi would be rubbing his hands together with uncontained glee, but _Kaiba wasn't there._

"Er, Mori-sensei-" Jounouchi began, deciding to just break the news and tell her that _Kaiba had ditched her class_, and hey, since he was a nice guy, he'd even leave out the _you're insane, woman_ at the end.

He choked on his own words; however, unprepared for the sound of his own voice. Or rather, the voice that wasn't his own_._

"Wha-" he automatically reached up to grasp his throat, and suddenly, all the pieces he'd so blissfully been unable to put together clicked with a _snap_, or maybe that was the sound of his sanity.

Long fingers grazed his throat, brushing the edge of his school uniform, the collar buttoned all the way to the top and snug around his neck. It certainly didn't help with the fact that he felt like he was fucking _suffocating,_ because the realization came crashing down on him that this wasn't his jacket, this wasn't his desk, that wasn't his voice, and shit, those weren't even his own fingers-

It didn't really register that he'd stood until he heard the chair scraping behind him, the resulting screech causing several of his gawking classmates to wince. He steadied himself with two splayed hands on the table, only distantly aware that they were shaking.

"Kaiba-san, are you feeling all right?"

The teacher was looking at him in concern now, but that only drove Jounouchi more on edge, because why the hell was she looking at _him_ while talking to _Kaiba_?

More stares. Deciding them insignificant for the moment, he lifted a hand to his face, dazedly observing the unfamiliar skin, nails, wrinkles, and veins. His head felt light, and it wasn't just because of the verging panic. Touching his scalp, he noted he had considerably less hair, and none of it fell in his eyes. Grasping a piece of it in his alien fingers, he pulled it into his line of vision and saw that his blond hair had been replaced with _brown-_

Ignoring the shouts of '_Kaiba-san, are you all right?'_, he stumbled drunkenly for the exit, unaccustomed to his long limbs but making it quickly out the door driven by his desperation alone. Once he made it out in the corridor, no one was there to witness his clumsy escape, his movements only slightly more controlled as he grew used to the foreign body. His uneven, running footsteps echoed down the hall, as did the slam of the door to the thankfully empty restroom.

Roughly, he kicked the trash can to block the entrance and staggered over to the mirror, bracing himself against the sink and grasping each porcelain edge with a tightly clenched hand. It felt slimy, filthy wet, but Jounouchi was too busy staring into the slimy, filthy mirror to care or even notice.

He'd never thought in a thousand years that he'd see the unflappable, stick-up-his-ass Seto Kaiba lose his composure. He doubted that even if the Pharaoh spent another five millennia with the guy, it'd never happen. It was an ugly sight, but Jounouchi felt none of the triumph he thought he might have enjoyed under different circumstances.

Pale, clammy skin. Ragged breaths. Wild blue eyes, more vibrant than the dull navy of his school uniform, and a manic gleam underlying their normally impassive surface.

"No," Jounouchi shook his head in denial, and watched as Kaiba's reflection did the same, the lips forming their own '_no_'.

Lifting a trembling finger to point at the mirror in horrified disbelief, his finger met Kaiba's, forming a cold connection between his hand and the chilled glass.

"This must be some kind of cheap trick," Jounouchi whispered in Kaiba's voice, saying the first phrase that sounded appropriate in his deep baritone.

Fate seemed to decide in that moment, however, that since he hadn't already had a nervous breakdown (or at least, it wasn't happening fast enough), it obviously hadn't fucked with him enough, so it had better change that so it could fulfill its goddamn cosmic quota for the day.

Jounouchi lost his grip on the sink and stumbled backwards, crashing into the bathroom stall as he took several terrified steps back, clutching his head with his grimy fingers.

He'd felt a _tingle_, or maybe a _stir_ in the back of his mind. A foreign, subconscious thought that most definitely wasn't his own. The murmur was weak and far from aware, but in that moment, Jounouchi _knew_. Physically, no one was near him, but in his mind...

He wasn't alone.

* * *

**Thank you to the lovely Crysanth for beta-ing! :)**

* * *

**…So, I've come back to this story, and hopefully updates will be faster now- that's my goal, at least. I'd love a review? This is a re-write, and I'm quite nervous about the new version. People seem to like the old chapters, but I prefer this. Is it just me...? Is it boring? I don't know anymore… T.T**


	2. Becoming Seto Kaiba

**Apologetic note: to those of you on story alert, this is being re-written as of last month. Sorry if the alerts are temporarily out of whack! I impulsively deleted two of the old chapters before realizing it would cause problems for you guys…oops.**

**Well, it seems the old version was a bit more popular, but I'm determined to stick with this! Hopefully I can win people over? But I did receive some wonderful encouragement already! Albino Shadowz, Mitsuri Hitchako, Canoodle Doodle, and KeiMaxwell- thanks so much for the reviews; you guys really motivated me to keep writing this. :)**

**And of course, a big thank you to Crysanth for editing. :D**

* * *

So.

Jounouchi had taken the whole ordeal quite well. Sure, he might have tried drowning himself in the sink in either an attempt to wake himself up, or an attempt put himself out of his misery. But he'd failed on both accounts, so it was really moot point. And he might have let out a long string of obnoxiously loud curses, but considering it was _him_, vulgar language was hardly outside the norm.

And he might have even knocked a bathroom stall of its hinges, but that was also moot point, because the school restroom was falling apart anyway. Besides, if he got caught, everyone would think Kaiba did it, and that guy could use a chunk taken out of his wallet.

Okay, so he'd panicked a little. But he'd fallen asleep in math class, none of his friends were around, and he'd woken up as _Seto. Fucking. Kaiba._

Panic was justified.

He'd calmed down, after a while, although he wasn't quite ready to leave his sanctuary. He found the smelly restroom infinitely more comforting than a classroom full of people who would all stare and call him _Kaiba-san_, even if the boy's bathroom did stink pretty damn bad.

He just needed a moment to come to terms with the whole world-as-he-knew-it-falling-apart thing. Several, _long_ moments.

Taking a deep breath, he spent one of those moments going over what had happened. In the hour or so since he'd run out of the classroom, he'd come up with several theories.

His favorite was that he'd turned into a skewed version of The Hulk—or rather, Bruce Banner. Normally, the lovable Jounouchi Katsuya, friend to all. But he had a hideous alter ego, a persona who barely seemed human with its terrible temper and distorted features, a monster of a man who everyone cowered away from in fear.

Which... sounded way too accurate.

Still, the theory was slightly more satisfying than knowing he probably _had_ lost that duel to Bakura.

Standing from where he'd collapsed on the floor, exhausted from his minor tirade, he inhaled deeply and took another look in the mirror. He frowned, but didn't flinch away this time, and experimentally he ran his hand over the side of his face and twitched his nose.

Come to think of it, he'd always wondered what the prick looked like with a smile. One that _didn't_ look like he was imagining Jounouchi whimpering at his feet, the sadistic freak.

Confusion momentarily forgotten, he tilted the corners of his lips up into a tentative grin. An imitation of his own mischievous smile flashed across Kaiba's features, teeth bared and his hand automatically lifted for an accompanying peace sign.

The smile fell at record speed.

Jounouchi suppressed a shiver; that had to be the _scariest,_ most _disturbing_ damn thing he'd ever seen. And he'd been chased by _zombies_ in a fucking _museum._

It didn't stop him from crossing his eyes a few minutes later.

...And sticking out his tongue, and then pursing his lips. Maybe this wasn't so bad, actually. He got to demean Kaiba a little, and with this face, he bet he could take over KaibaCorp and poof! Billionaire Jounouchi. He could buy as much food as he wanted, whenever he wanted, and there was no video game too expensive for Jounouchi-_sama_.

If he'd been dead, Kaiba would have rolled over in his grave.

As it was, the prick did choose that moment to ruin all his fun and stir again in the back of his mind, thereby proving he hadn't vanished from the face of the planet, crushing Jounouchi's hopes of stealing his money and title. Kaiba had apparently decided he wanted to exist, after all.

That bastard.

Additionally, the man didn't appear overly thrilled when he found that another conscious had assumed control of his body and taken it for a stroll. And Jounouchi found that while he had managed to calm down somewhat in the past hour, and was _almost_ ready to come to terms with being stuck in the body of his arch nemesis, he _wasn't _quite ready to share his entire damn mind with said arch nemesis.

Especially not when the presence-that-was-Kaiba chose that moment to _slam_ the presence-that-was-Jounouchi into the darkest, most confined chasms of the mind they shared.

Defeated and suppressed, but unable to leave, like an unwilling parasite. Incapable of escape, no matter how much he hated his host.

At least Jounouchi could still see out through his eyes, although the world seemed muted, less vibrant than before. Strangely, when Kaiba reached up and clutched his head, he could feel the muffled sensation of grasping hair and tugging it uncomfortably on his scalp, and _shit_ he could feel that killer headache, too.

The weirdest thing he felt, though, was when Kaiba realized he could sense Jounouchi.

There was no conversation, just a collection of thoughts that took different forms; words, images, emotions. Panic, disbelief, and then denial.

Jounouchi didn't respond at first, unsure what he _could_ do, even, but while he expected Kaiba to view the situation dubiously, he did not expect the bastard not to acknowledge him at all.

It took him a moment. Kaiba stared into the mirror, dread pooling in his stomach when he sensed another presence staring _with_ him, and then watched as his eyes—their eyes—widened incredulously. Their heart pounded, their breaths became fast and shallow, and their eyes seemed so _blue_, wide with panic and rejecting the truth.

And then Seto Kaiba closed those eyes, counted to fifty, steadied his breathing, and walked out the door.

Jounouchi was too stunned to react, for a moment.

He belatedly realized that the bastard honestly intended to pretend that nothing was wrong.

He would've punched something if he could have—preferably Kaiba's face—but he couldn't because the prick had taken control of his body again, and was trying his damn hardest to take away his mind, too. He didn't like rich boy; he hated him, but he did _not_ want to be alone in this.

_You bastard! You fucking bastard-_

Jounouchi's wordless rage evolved into a furious, mental howl. He knew the prick could hear him, but Kaiba just strolled down the hallway and back to class, his shoulders back, head high, and an air that just screamed, _no, I'm not hearing voices in my head, why the hell do you ask? You're fired._

He'd always known that the guy wasn't human.

"Kaiba-san," the teacher exclaimed when the rich boy in question opened the door sharply with a flick of his wrist, not bothering to knock. "Mori-sensei told me you weren't feeling well at the beginning of last period. Is everything all right?"

_No. No, everything was not all right,_ Jounouchi tried to force the words out of Kaiba's mouth, and almost succeeded, but instead his lips stubbornly pressed together before parting and speaking the biggest lie he had ever heard.

"Everything is fine," Kaiba said curtly, proceeding brusquely to his seat.

_Fine._

The guy appeared to be trying to convince himself as well as the teacher. Unfortunately for Jounouchi, it appeared he was an expert at deluding himself, because it actually seemed to be working.

And that was how Jounouchi sat not only through history class, but English, Japanese, and science as well, hollering at Seto Kaiba for their entirety. All the while listening and watching as the jerk answered every question correctly, took notes, and read his novel. Jounouchi couldn't multi-task that well even when he _didn't_ have his most hated enemy shouting in his head, so how the hell did Kaiba manage to?

This wasn't funny. He was trapped in the mind of a robot.

At some point, both exhaustion and realism led his internal shouting to lose most of its intensity. He managed to keep it up for the first hour or so, but the only "victory" as far as he could see was that Kaiba never turned the page of the novel he was trying to read. Too distracted, or maybe his head hurt too much. The obscure victory didn't satisfy him.

Eventually, he thought to look for Yugi.

His friend was still absent. Probably off saving the world, but now there was nobody around to save Jounouchi.

He had been sitting through class for so long, though, that the panic had started to wear off. Like a kid who threw a tantrum, but was ignored, and what was the point of screaming if nobody heard?

School ended.

Jounouchi had tried _everything._

He'd tried reasoning with Kaiba. Tried telling him that the sooner he admitted their predicament, the sooner they could figure out how to put him back in his own body, and the sooner he could start avoiding Kaiba for the rest of his existence, after life, and future reincarnations.

The one-sided argument stayed one-sided, however, and therefore un-won, but it brought up a good question.

A really, really good question.

_Where the hell was his body?_

He tried not to panic. He wasn't sure if his heart—or Kaiba's heart, whatever—could take another panic attack. But his body...what if something happened to it? For all he knew, the evil-Bakura had pushed him off the roof, or someone had dragged off his corpse, or added it to Ghost Kotsuzuka's collection. If that guy had a collection. He bet he did.

He would never even know until too late, though, because Kaiba was too much of a stubborn asshole to tell anybody that he was missing.

"Roland."

He snapped out of his escalating hysteria, suddenly aware that Kaiba had picked up his cell phone and dialed; he'd been too caught up in his brooding to notice earlier.

Regardless, he didn't have much hope. Even if Jounouchi managed to call for help, the prick could probably just order his minions to forget what he'd said. And they would, because calling your boss insane was the stupidest, easiest way to lose your paycheck.

He knew from experience.

"Locate Jounouchi Katsuya," Kaiba commanded, much to the surprise of his unwanted companion. Jounouchi hadn't even _considered_ that the other teen might help him.

The brunette barely waited for his employee to give an affirmative before hanging up the phone, growling under his breath about 'useless mutt probably taken to the pound'. Stunned that he'd finally been noted at all, Jounouchi almost felt grateful for the shortest, most fleeting of a second.

Almost.

The jerk continued to ignore him, however, as if pretending Jounouchi wasn't there would make him go away. It wasn't working.

Yeah, he wished it was that simple too, Kaiba. Him too.

He gave a loud, mental groan as his host headed out of the school doors, marching towards his limo. Almost made it, too, except for Jounouchi's savior.

Had he ever told Yugi what an awesome little guy he was? Because if he ever got out of this mess, he'd join that kid's fanclub.

"Kaiba-kun!"

If it had been anyone else, rich boy probably would have ignored him gladly, but Yugi always was the only one Kaiba would stop for— unless an opportunity to humiliate Jounouchi popped up, of course.

"What?" he asked sharply, but Yugi didn't notice the tone, worry tinging his voice and watering eyes.

"Kaiba-kun, you haven't seen Jounouchi, have you?" he asked, fidgeting beneath the taller man's cold glare. Jounouchi knew he had true friends when they were willing to brave Kaiba's wrath, in all his trenchcoat glory. And hey, they'd noticed he was missing, too.

"No," Kaiba stated without hesitation, starting towards his limo again, not even wincing when Jounouchi started shouting again. The bastard couldn't just pretend this didn't affect him.

_You stuck up, spoiled rich ass! I'll kill you, I swear! I'll kill-_

He paused when Kaiba spoke again, his lips curling into a sneer. "Maybe you should start keeping the mutt on a leash."

_I'LL KILL YOU-!_

"Oh, I see," Yugi said, disappointed. He ignored the comment, or maybe he was just too worried to pay it any mind. "Jounouchi went missing at lunch. If you see him, could you let us know?"

"I have no interest in looking for lost dogs," Kaiba was saying when Jounouchi snapped. How had he taken control of Kaiba's body before? He'd do it again, he swore, and he tried to force Kaiba's lips to move, to force him to shout-

_Yugi, I'm here!_

Kaiba flinched, a hiss escaping his lips as he involuntarily reached up to clutch his hair. Jounouchi would _make_ him admit he existed, dammit, it was _Yugi_.

"Kaiba-kun? Kaiba-kun, are you all right?"

Everyone had been asking that, it seemed, and this time Jounouchi would _force_ him to tell the truth. Yugi could help him; the kid had a magical Pharaoh sharing his mind. He would know what to do, he _had_ to know what to do-

And then Kaiba straightened and ground out between clenched teeth, "Goodbye, Yugi."

Jounouchi fought him the whole way, but Kaiba's determination beat even his desperation. Three more steps, suppress the mutt, get in the car.

The limo door slammed shut behind them.

Jounouchi still tried, but the fervor was gone, because they both _knew_ it was over. The car was starting up and they would leave behind his only hope of rescue. His body would probably rot, and the ghost of Jounouchi Katsuya would forever haunt the roof of Domino High, his skeleton found by future students who wouldn't even know his name.

Kaiba rolled down the window. "Yugi."

Jounouchi perked up, although he knew he shouldn't get his hopes up. Maybe Kaiba had decided to stop being such a bastard and ask for help, or maybe he just wanted to make one more dog comment.

"Check the roof."

"The roof?" Jounouchi heard Yugi ask. "We thought he must have left the school since he never came to class, but why-"

They never heard the end of the sentence, as Kaiba chose to cut him off. He never heard the "thank you" Yugi shouted as the window rolled shut, nor did he see the boy sprint back to the school building.

He reached over and turned on the intercom.

"Drive."

The limo started moving, rolling smoothly from its parking place and heading the opposite direction of Jounouchi's house. The school building grew smaller behind them, leaving behind his only hope of escape. Still, at least Kaiba had sent someone back for his body.

It wasn't exactly progress, but... Jounouchi supposed it was better than nothing.

* * *

**All feedback is welcome, from encouragement to harsh concrit and everything in between. :)**

**Please review? :D**


	3. Mercy

** Whoo, finished. My Beta is currently off on vacation right now (without me! D:) and left me to fend for myself, so I might have missed something (feel free to give suggestions/point stuff out!), but it's done. :P**

** And of course, thank you so much **_**Eriasa Jun, Wolf579, mara-kun, Gilbert's Left Arm, caffeinatedsaiyangirl, Albino Shadowz, Sonooneknew, bulma's snivy, and Canoodle Doodle**_**! I really, really hope the chapter was worth the wait. My apologies. ^.^;**

* * *

It took Jounouchi precisely two weeks and three days to gain an advantage over Kaiba. He prided himself in his victory, given how genius and complex and robotic and perfect the man supposedly was. He had won against a machine_._ He was freaking _awesome._

Given, the accomplishment paled somewhat when taking into account that Jounouchi had been with Kaiba twenty-four seven for seventeen days straight, yet he had _still_ needed all that time to come up with a battle plan. Nor was this plan even overly reliable, although Jounouchi credited this to Kaiba's uncooperativeness, not any fault of his own because when shit went wrong with the world blaming Kaiba was sort of his default.

And hell, more often than not, he could form a pretty damn convincing argument for it, given how Kaiba owned an unhealthy portion of _everything_.

He'd tried fighting fair. The first battles had involved a lot of straightforward yelling, almost banshee-like in the amount of suffering inflicted, except way more manly because Jounouchi was the manliest man since Chris Hemsworth.

Unfortunately, despite Honda and especially Anzu always telling him that he he had no brain-to-mouth filter—or if he did, it had gaping holes—and his teachers grimly concluding that the strange and fickle concept of "shutting up" was simply outside his comprehensive grasp (sort of like binomial equations), Kaiba tuned out his psychological verbal onslaught like a pro.

So for days Jounouchi shouted about how he had rights, damnit, to his own body and Kaiba had an obligation as a human being to help him re-attain his own will. He gave heartfelt speeches of human rights and freedom and justice and friendship and love and burgers (because Kaiba only ate caviar, crumpets, and Purina Freak Food or whatever it was that rich jerks ate), but to no avail.

No wonder Anzu could never break through to him in a mere ten minutes; Jounouchi had tried yelling for hours straight.

Jounouchi had moved onto more sophisticated tactics after that.

He'd never thought that he could grow tired of _Back in Black,_ but after two hundred and twelve repeats, even he had to admit that the song didn't sound as badass as before, especially when he had to mind-mumble a few of the verses every time since he couldn't quite remember them.

Next he'd tried three repeats of _99 bottles of beer on the wall_, just in case Kaiba was secretly a fan of AC DC and the two hundred replays hadn't been that bad for him, but in the end all he'd received for his efforts was a massive headache which _both_ of them felt.

His second battle involved a dramatic one-eighty. Silence. The only thing he let leak across their unwanted link was a deep misery that he hoped would gain him some form of sympathy.

Clearly, Jounouchi had forgotten the critical knowledge that the Kaiba-bot lacked basic emotions, so he was doomed to failure from the very start.

Needless to say, the strategy fell apart when Kaiba gleefully took his absence as the go-ahead to tell Yugi precisely how much he didn't care about coma-ridden dogs, and how he was already being far too generous by allowing a mutt to stay in KaibaCorp hospital—of course there was one—when it wasn't even an animal clinic.

Evil bastard.

Jounouchi decided he favored his first method of warfare.

Still, in his fit of rage, he hadn't expected to separate from Kaiba's body as some sort of corporeal ghost and actually _accomplish_ something. He recalled Yugi telling him that the "other" Yugi had such an ability, but even he had to admit, this was way cooler than what he'd envisioned.

Kaiba might have won the battles, but not the war. And Jounouchi suddenly felt hopeful that it was possible to win the war, but not any of the battles.

Jounouchi could _float._ Kaiba couldn't beat that unless those rumors were true and he really did have the ability to shoot laser beams from his eyes when he glared. He suspected they were just that, though, rumors, because Jounouchi was not fried to a crisp of well-done Jou-steak.

He felt immensely satisfied when Kaiba's eyes widened at the sight of the spirit hovering in front of him, which certainly beat any of the other responses he had managed to get out of him. Last time he'd merited a reaction the man had only twitched his nose, but that was three days ago and Jounouchi suspected he might have just had to sneeze.

Meanwhile, Yugi continued to defend his honor and tell Kaiba how he shouldn't talk about Jounouchi like that, but he did so while looking right _through_ Jounouchi. Given that he was still floating in midair and looking confused, Jounouchi assumed that Yugi couldn't see him.

After waving his hands desperately in front of Yugi's face and repeating various forms of "hey Yug', can you hear me?" he felt his smugness fade somewhat at the realization that only Kaiba could see him, and he was dead set on pretending that he couldn't, so much so that Jounouchi wondered if he _actually_ couldn't.

He really hoped that the incredulous look that had flickered across the man's face earlier was because of him, and not because he suddenly found Yugi's hair more ridiculous than usual.

Mori-sensei walked in, eying Kaiba with a measure of trepidation, doubtlessly remembering the odd breakdown he'd had two and a half weeks ago. He'd recovered admirably, but Honda was blocking Kaiba's path and looked ready to throw punches, and the teacher probably wondered if the genius might regress at any second.

He did look bored on the surface, but Jounouchi's ghost might have pushed the last straw, because now it felt like the dangerous calm of the ocean right before a tsunami struck.

"I'll say this one more time," Kaiba announced, glaring at Honda while he spoke. "Move, before I decide you idiots really _are_ worth my time. I think you'll find my lawyers somewhat...disagreeable."

"You know something," Honda growled, his face contorted with indignant fury. "Yugi said _you_ were the one who told him to look on the roof. _You're_ the one who let him into your hospital without charge. You know something, but you're not telling us—"

Honda stepped forward, either bravely or stupidly, and made it _very_ clear that he had no intention of moving. Even Jounouchi couldn't beat Seto Kaiba, though, which meant the guy probably knew judo, kung fu, _and_ karate. So reluctantly, he admitted his friend was probably just being a moron again. Especially when considering the fact that Kaiba could most definitely follow through on that threat to sue his ass.

"I saw the mutt head that direction at lunch," Kaiba stated, unflinching and refusing to take a step back even with Honda's purposefully invasion of his personal space. "And if my charity disturbs you so greatly, I'll tell Mokuba that it is unwanted and kick the mutt out next chance I get."

At that, he reached down to grasp the shorter teen's shirt, and shoved him backwards so that Honda stumbled out of his way. Kaiba was then able to continue down the aisle to his seat in the back, the only person who didn't share his table with anyone. No, actually, the second chair was for his laptop.

"Kaiba-san, wait, we're grateful, but we're worried—" Yugi called after him, but was promptly reprimanded by the teacher and told to sit down for class.

Mori-sensei then proceeded to discuss parametric equations which Kaiba likewise proceeded to ignore because he already knew it all in that freaky brain of his, and Jounouchi ignored simply because he did not care. Instead, he took the opportunity to experiment with his new, ghostly self, and aggravate Kaiba as much as possible while he worked.

What could he say, he multi-tasked even when he had no mind of his own.

He could touch things, he discovered, but he couldn't move them, nor would anyone notice if he tried. He could also leave Kaiba, but the farther he went the harder it became to walk, like he was attached to him by an elastic band that resisted more the more distance he put between them. He estimated his niche stretched for about a seven meter radius, and then things started becoming uncomfortable.

Then he ascertained that it was much easier to bother Kaiba in this form. When he grew bored with making faces at the teacher and doing handstands on Honda's desk, he decided to keep Kaiba company.

And by company, he meant poking the guy repeatedly on the arm and starting up a mantra of "Hey Kaiba. Hey Kaiba. Hey Kaiba. Hey Kaiba. Hey Kaiba-"

After he'd successfully wasted away half an hour of math class with that and continued dauntlessly through break, he chose to spend economics sprawled across the table, obnoxiously reading bits and pieces from Kaiba's laptop as he worked. When the CEO dealt with accounting and numbers, for instance, Jounouchi would count off "five, sixty-eight, nine, fourteen" in an effort to make him type all the wrong ones.

Soon he was on a roll, and when he dealt the finishing blow, moving so he effectively blocked Kaiba's view of the laptop screen—or at least, his translucent form made it so he had to squint if he wanted to see through him—he realized he'd won.

Jounouchi. Had. Won.

Because Kaiba reached over to the chair next to him, pulled his briefcase off and placed it carefully on the floor, and tugged the chair out from underneath the table so someone could sit on it.

...With no one aside from Jounouchi who possibly could. In other words, it was a completely illogical gesture, unless he was finally admitting to his existence.

Jounouchi stared. "Kaiba?"

But Kaiba had carefully blocked off their link, and the only thing Jounouchi could pick up on was that the guy was _tense._

It wasn't the perfect surrender, but Jounouchi decided to take it, because it was the most progress he'd had in...well, two weeks and three days.

So he cut the stubborn jerk some slack and moved away from his laptop, floating down into the seat next to him. Sort of like a reward; if Kaiba did what Jounouchi wanted and acknowledged him, he wouldn't incessantly wave his hands in front of his face or chant all the swear words he knew. He rather enjoyed this concept, because it made Kaiba the dog in this relationship.

Either that, or Jounouchi was just the immature mutt who couldn't behave, but whatever. He'd take what ammo he could get.

The teachers would have been so proud if only they could see Jounouchi and Kaiba sitting so peaceably next to each other, with one typing away on his laptop and the other watching thoughtfully. Or maybe they'd have been terrified, because the day the two of them coexisted without even a hint at bloodshed suggested pod people or genetic personality changes.

Sitting like that was boring, though, and at twenty minutes Jounouchi reached his limit. "Oi, Kaiba."

No response. Jounouchi wondered if the guy was back in denial, or if this was just his revenge for the dog comment. He really had to learn how to block his thoughts like Kaiba did, in order to prevent these trivial acts of vengeance.

And no, Jounouchi never acted trivial at all, no matter how much he pestered Honda to pay up that two hundred yen for that one bag of chips he mooched off of him three years ago.

"Kaiba." A little louder this time. Still no response.

Jounouchi tapped his corporeal fingers on the table impatiently and opened his mouth to break their tentative truce _because Kaiba was a dick_, but he ended up closing it a few seconds later without making a sound. The teacher droned on. Kaiba sat quietly. Jounouchi watched.

He knew then that Kaiba was tired. The man tried to hide it by blocking the link, but it was reaching the point where exhaustion was making those walls thin. Jounouchi realized he could break through if he made the effort, and while he probably wouldn't be able to gain control of their body, he'd at least be able to hear Kaiba's thoughts.

It would serve him right, but Jounouchi didn't do it. He hated Kaiba, he hated him with a passion he usually reserved for veggie dogs, but he could at least understand why the guy didn't want to admit that he shared his mind with his irritating classmate, or worse, that he was going insane and hearing voices in his head.

Jounouchi knew that even pulling out that chair, quietly and in the back of the room where no one could see him, still damaged his pride.

Yes, he hated Kaiba, but he wanted to win in a fair fight, and somehow taking advantage of that exhaustion and frustration even when his rival didn't _want_ to give up seemed like a cheap move.

So Jounouchi mimicked Kaiba and sat silently, observing as the other continued to type away on his laptop with a sort of mechanical obligation, thinking determinedly about numbers and stock and everything except Jounouchi.

And that's how he learned that it was possible to completely hate someone but still feel a little bit of sympathy for him, too.

* * *

**Please review? :D**


End file.
